Before I had Ptolemy, it had been a good six years since I had had a baby. I was feeling pretty fit and slim. I was going to yoga class and teaching ballet and felt like it was doing the trick. Now, however, I've been out of shape for three years. So I renewed my gym membership. I still feel like an hour yoga class is too much, and the other classes are way over my head. Zumba? No thanks, I'm trying to get in shape without breaking a sweat.
So Monday night after our ballet classes, Ari and I went to the gym. I was super intimidated, and didn't help myself at all by wearing sandals and carrying a giant pink quilted bag with diapers, baby clothes and first grade homework spilling out of it. I was so glad to have Ari there to talk to, and to use as an excuse to look clueless. As in, "Let's see, Ari, let me show you what THIS machine does. Uh..."
Ari saved me by rolling her eyes and flicking my "START" button before she hopped up on her own stairmaster and started hiking up that moving escalator about twice as fast as I could go. Because "Ari was a beginner," I set a goal for us to do stairs for just five minutes. We made it, and I thought we should quit while we were ahead.
Again, good thing Ari was there because she wanted to try the reclining bikes, a thing that looks like cross-country skiing and then the treadmill. Ari went on to the rowing machine, but I only took one swipe at it before my lower back screamed, "HELLO?!? I'm broken here, remember? I've been in pain since your first trimester?!" My back didn't mind walking, though, so I carried on with the treadmill until Ari got tired of rowing and it was time to pick up Golda and Ruby from their dance class.
My self-imposed rule is that I have to go to the gym at least twice a week, so Thursday I ventured back with Ptolemy and Tziporah. I talked up the free daycare to Ptolemy, and he was excited until he saw the actual venue. It was a sectioned off corner of the fieldhouse, full of whirling dervishes in the form of toddlers. Tolly's face blanched and he started backing up. He's an old soul, and there was no way he was going in there with all those children. I knew one of the caregivers, so I plunked him on her lap and left him.
With Tizzy nestled in her sling, I hopped up on a treadmill like a veteran. (It was my second time, you know.) Only Ari wasn't there to turn it on for me and I couldn't figure out how. The thing I like about the Sportsplex is that the people there are regular people, not ultra-hot 19-year-old former Miss Universe contestants in spandex. These people are the kind of 30-something moms and retired Rotary Club guys that don't care when you pretend the treadmill is out of order and go to the next one. Thankfully, it worked and Tizzy and I proceeded to walk at a very slow pace. I would have walked faster, but I couldn't read at the faster pace because my book was too wobbly. Also, Ruby had mentioned how scared she was that Tziporah would get shaken baby syndrome if I took her to the gym. I laughed, "What, do you think I'm going to run? I don't do bouncy. She'll be fine" So I had Tizzy to think of, right? And why walk fast when you have a baby that looks like a newborn as an excuse for being out of shape? Several people were impressed that I was even ambulatory.
I didn't realize how leisurely my stint on the treadmill was until I had walked for a full twenty-five minutes and traveled exactly ONE mile. One mile in twenty-five minutes. Um, isn't walking supposed to be faster than that? Granted, I did read fifty-one pages and I didn't mess up my sandals by sweating. (Yes, I forgot about wearing proper shoes again.) When I retrieved Ptolemy from the daycare, he was still huddled on my friend's lap peering suspiciously at the other kids with a big pout on his face. It's probably disconcerting to be around that many kids without at least some of them being his siblings!
In all, I probably burned about 24 calories. I made up for it, though, when I came home and had to do all my morning chores quick to make up for lost time. By the time I had changed the wash, loaded the dishwasher, swept the floor, changed some diapers, glued up a cello seam, vacuumed, taken out the garbage, tidied the kitchen and wiped off the counter, I was peeling off layers of exercise clothing. Then I worked in my flowerbed until I was covered in mud, dizzy from exertion and plastered in sweat. So even though I took time out to go to the gym, I still got my workout in.
So Monday night after our ballet classes, Ari and I went to the gym. I was super intimidated, and didn't help myself at all by wearing sandals and carrying a giant pink quilted bag with diapers, baby clothes and first grade homework spilling out of it. I was so glad to have Ari there to talk to, and to use as an excuse to look clueless. As in, "Let's see, Ari, let me show you what THIS machine does. Uh..."
Ari saved me by rolling her eyes and flicking my "START" button before she hopped up on her own stairmaster and started hiking up that moving escalator about twice as fast as I could go. Because "Ari was a beginner," I set a goal for us to do stairs for just five minutes. We made it, and I thought we should quit while we were ahead.
Again, good thing Ari was there because she wanted to try the reclining bikes, a thing that looks like cross-country skiing and then the treadmill. Ari went on to the rowing machine, but I only took one swipe at it before my lower back screamed, "HELLO?!? I'm broken here, remember? I've been in pain since your first trimester?!" My back didn't mind walking, though, so I carried on with the treadmill until Ari got tired of rowing and it was time to pick up Golda and Ruby from their dance class.
My self-imposed rule is that I have to go to the gym at least twice a week, so Thursday I ventured back with Ptolemy and Tziporah. I talked up the free daycare to Ptolemy, and he was excited until he saw the actual venue. It was a sectioned off corner of the fieldhouse, full of whirling dervishes in the form of toddlers. Tolly's face blanched and he started backing up. He's an old soul, and there was no way he was going in there with all those children. I knew one of the caregivers, so I plunked him on her lap and left him.
With Tizzy nestled in her sling, I hopped up on a treadmill like a veteran. (It was my second time, you know.) Only Ari wasn't there to turn it on for me and I couldn't figure out how. The thing I like about the Sportsplex is that the people there are regular people, not ultra-hot 19-year-old former Miss Universe contestants in spandex. These people are the kind of 30-something moms and retired Rotary Club guys that don't care when you pretend the treadmill is out of order and go to the next one. Thankfully, it worked and Tizzy and I proceeded to walk at a very slow pace. I would have walked faster, but I couldn't read at the faster pace because my book was too wobbly. Also, Ruby had mentioned how scared she was that Tziporah would get shaken baby syndrome if I took her to the gym. I laughed, "What, do you think I'm going to run? I don't do bouncy. She'll be fine" So I had Tizzy to think of, right? And why walk fast when you have a baby that looks like a newborn as an excuse for being out of shape? Several people were impressed that I was even ambulatory.
I didn't realize how leisurely my stint on the treadmill was until I had walked for a full twenty-five minutes and traveled exactly ONE mile. One mile in twenty-five minutes. Um, isn't walking supposed to be faster than that? Granted, I did read fifty-one pages and I didn't mess up my sandals by sweating. (Yes, I forgot about wearing proper shoes again.) When I retrieved Ptolemy from the daycare, he was still huddled on my friend's lap peering suspiciously at the other kids with a big pout on his face. It's probably disconcerting to be around that many kids without at least some of them being his siblings!
In all, I probably burned about 24 calories. I made up for it, though, when I came home and had to do all my morning chores quick to make up for lost time. By the time I had changed the wash, loaded the dishwasher, swept the floor, changed some diapers, glued up a cello seam, vacuumed, taken out the garbage, tidied the kitchen and wiped off the counter, I was peeling off layers of exercise clothing. Then I worked in my flowerbed until I was covered in mud, dizzy from exertion and plastered in sweat. So even though I took time out to go to the gym, I still got my workout in.
9 comments:
You kill me. YOu are so dang funny. I go to the gym 4-5 days a week. It is my home away from home. I never talk to a soul. I go in, work out and leave. You really will find you like it. And Zumba rocks! Give it a try. You being a dancer and all, you will be the STAR! On Tuesday, I burned 606 calories in my Zumba class that is 55 minutes! I look like an uncoordinated thing, my kids say I am "really white." You will have style and flair and be a star pupil. I just know it.
So, so funny - what a great way to start my day!
You are a riot. You have a wonderful writing style. I love your blogs!
hee hee. I dunno -- 2.4 mph while reading a book AND holding a baby seems like a pretty good pace to me.
You rock!! Way to go! Heh...I can just imagine the talk Plolmey had for you when you got back in the car. :o)
Keep up the great work!
Really funny post again. Good luck with the gym:)
Good for you! Your start getting your mile under 20 minutes withing a few weeks I bet! I love being behind the skinny spandex girls because I always work harder, and I imagine my body like that and think I am totally hot! Keep us updated!
Ohhh, thanks for the good laugh. I know exactly how you feel. I did a work out video the other day and I can't do 1 sit up! Not 1!!
Circe-I love "blog stalking" you. You crack me up. I'm impressed you're at the gym. Georgia is 14 months and I'm barely beginning to ride my bike! Tizzy is so yummy, I want to squeeze that cute little face! Congrats!
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